Investigations of the Heart
by Satan'sPixie
Summary: When Sherlock and John are called to the North to investigate a series of crimes, they meet the mysterious Eleri Rose. Thus begins a new partnership which will give Sherlock and John's cases a new edge as well as allowing Sherlock to investigate hidden aspects of himself that he never knew existed. Rating for later chapters. SHOC and JWOC, this is NOT a JohnLock fic!


_**Investigations of the Heart**_

_Hey, had this idea while playing the Sims 2 after reading a fanfic (don't ask me to explain my weird and warped brain!) which has the pairing HPLVSH, (as you might or might not guess, it's a HP and Sherlock crossover fic!). It's really good, it's called '__**Pact of New Blood**__' by __**WyrdSmih**__, and I'd really recommend it even though it's only 2 chapters long._

_Also, there'll be elements of the Robert Downey Jr Sherlock as well as the Jude Law Watson as I loved the first movie and I really like the sort of relationship they both have although he will look like the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock. This fic is SHOC, with suggestions of JWOC added in for good measure and is Post-Reichenbach but as Series 3 is going to be filmed early next year (it's 2012 as I'm writing this), we don't actually know __**how**__ Sherlock survived so I'll make my own ideas for it. I've also just discovered that Sherlock's Website '__**The Science of Deduction**__' and John's Blog can actually be __**found**__ on the internet! Just type the name of Sherlock's website into Google and it'll come up! Lol, as you might guess, I'm just a little obsessed with Sherlock Holmes…again! I went through a stage of being obsessed and that kind of toned itself down with time but now…well let's just say that I'm worse than ever!_

_AN pt2:_

_Ok, so it's 01/01/14 now and the third series of Sherlock is being aired tonight! (I'm _**SOOOOOOOOOOOO**_ excited!) so I thought I'd post this chapter before the episode._

_**Chapter 1: Money is the root of all evil**_

It was a wet and miserable Tuesday morning when the phone call arrived. Sherlock had been bored, ever since the business with Moriarty was concluded.

"Hmm…What was that?" He asked, almost absentmindedly, as John put the phone down after answering it.

"Well, Sherlock, _**that**_ was a phone call." John grinned, knowing that it would irritate his friend out of his apathy.

"And who was on the other end man?!" Sherlock growled with a light glare at his friend.

"Calm down." John replied with a light smile before turning serious. "It was a D.I. Owen from Richmond in North Yorkshire. There have been a couple of linked crimes there that they can't figure out and they'd like you to investigate." Sherlock sat up suddenly, his eyes bright and excited.

"Hmm…sounds like it could definitely provide some distraction. If I remember rightly there's a 10 am train that goes from Kings Cross to Darlington in County Durham which arrives at 12:21, from there it would be a simple matter of catching a bus to Richmond, which isn't too far from Darlington." Sherlock mused as he paced for a few moments before rushing off to pack some clothes and a few other 'essentials'. John also packed, remembering to take his medical kit, with how often they were exposed to danger because of Sherlock's work, they'd probably need it.

The train ride took almost two and a half hours to complete, giving John plenty of time to reflect on the coming case as well as leave a message for D.I. Owen to tell him that they were on their way. By the time they arrived in Darlington station, Sherlock was acting as despondent as he had before they had left London. Luckily, they didn't have to wait the extra time needed to catch the bus as D.I. Owen was waiting in a car.

"Dr Watson? Mr Holmes? I'm D.I. Thomas Owen; I'm glad you're here, we're at our wits end about this series of crimes." He said, as John and Sherlock entered the car. Sherlock didn't comment, he simply examined the view from his window with a kind of bored detachment. There was silence for a few minutes before the Police officer spoke again, almost nervously.

"There is one slight…problem." He said, looking almost apologetic. Sherlock looked up.

"Problem?" He questioned, looking interested.

"We have our own detective in Richmond, a girl named Eleri Rose, but my superiors and I felt that it would be far better for you to investigate with your greater experience. Some of the locals don't see it that way though, they'd rather Miss Rose investigated the crimes." Owen replied, hoping that Sherlock wouldn't get too annoyed at what he was trying to tell him.

"How many of the locals exactly?" Sherlock asked, his eyes bright; he relished a challenge, of any kind.

"Most of them, only a few have not commented. What you should know about Richmond, it is not a large town, most people know each other, or know a member of their family. When Miss Rose offered to investigate and was refused, the owners of the crime scenes stated that they wished her to investigate. There was sufficient arguments given that my superiors finally agreed that she could investigate, as long as you also investigated. I hope that's not a problem." Owen said awkwardly.

"I can foresee no problems if she has no objections. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have someone experienced working with her." Sherlock replied before gazing out of the window once more.

"You haven't met her." Owen muttered, knowing that his job was about to get a whole lot harder.

_**SH**_

The town of Richmond, Sherlock noticed, was a very pretty Georgian Market town, with a large Norman castle overlooking most of the town. Rather than taking them to the Police Station, Owen drove into the main Marketplace and stopped in front of the King's Head hotel.

"There's two rooms booked here for you, we thought you might want to freshen up before we take you to the first crime scene." Owen explained, parking the car and leading them into the hotel. Sherlock and John agreed that they didn't really need to 'freshen up' as their journey hadn't been that strenuous. Owen looked nervous when he realised that Sherlock and Eleri Rose would meet sooner than he had anticipated but he also thought that it was probably best to get it over with. The first Crime Scene was the house of a wealthy banker, in fact, all the crime scenes were linked to the banking industry in some way.

When Sherlock and John entered the house of the first crime scene, they came face to face with a young woman. She was taller than most women, possibly due to the high heeled boots that she was wearing, John couldn't tell. Her pale skin contrasted sharply to her long black hair but she didn't look ill, there was too much life and vibrancy in her bright blue eyes for that.

"Well, who do we have here?" Sherlock asked ponderingly, immediately putting her on guard.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." She replied, a strong Yorkshire accent prominent in her speech with the hint of something else there too.

"Hmm…a Yorkshire accent, with the slight hint of a Welsh one. You're local to this area but a family member is Welsh, because the hint is so slight, I'd say your grandfather." Sherlock noted and John mentally sighed, his friend was going into 'deduction' mode.

"Quite correct. It's almost astounding how you can notice something so obvious!" She smirked, an expression John hadn't expected to see on her pretty features.

"As for _**who**_ you are, there are three possibilities. One, that you are the family's daughter. This, however, is not right as there are no pictures of you anywhere and families tend to have photos of their loved ones up." Sherlock started.

"Again, your grasp of the obvious is astounding, there's also the small matter that both Mr and Mrs Wilkes are blonde with green eyes and I have black hair and blue eyes." She countered, gesturing to the family photos.

"Indeed, I had noticed that but felt it was too obvious to mention. Possibility number two, you are the perpetrator of this crime, returned to the scene. But again, I find that unlikely. While your outfit of those dark denim shorts, that white tank top, black fishnet stockings and black lace up boots makes you dressed for action, your hair is loose and you're wearing too much jewellery. With loose hair, it is more likely that some hairs will be shed, leaving evidence behind and the charms on that bracelet and the chains on your necklace and earrings make too much noise which would alert the attention of anyone in the house." Sherlock replied, causing John to take a closer look at the woman. Just as Sherlock said, she was wearing a chain around her neck with what looked like an Ankh pendant on it with a snake on it. On her neck she was also wearing a black leather collar which Sherlock hadn't mentioned. In her ears were a pair of cross earrings, one of which had chains going from the cross up to a cuff on a piercing at the top of her left ear. On one wrist she wore a black sliced leather cuff while on the other she wore a charm bracelet containing religious and spiritual charms.

"Again, you are correct. Although you could have also mentioned my make-up. Bright red lipstick, black eyeliner, black mascara and black nail polish attract too much attention, as do my tattoos." She snorted, her brightly painted lips curving into another smirk.

"Ah yes, the tattoos. I only see three but you might possibly have others somewhere I can't see them. The eye on your right wrist is an Eye of Horus, often used to symbolise Indestructibility, this tells me that you are trying to show that you can't be broken, something traumatic happened to you years ago and you are showing defiance to that." Sherlock said, looking intensely at her.

"Well done, your deductions are correct. And I _**do**_ have other tattoos, one of a Celtic dragon on my back and a winged Ankh on my calf." She replied airily, showing them the tattoo of a black dragon facing the left with its right paw raised.

"Ah, the winged Ankh on your calf gives a strong clue about you. The Ankh itself is the hieroglyphic for 'life' and the wings are angel wings, which could symbolise spiritual freedom, this tells me that the meaning behind _**that**_ particular tattoo is Spiritual Life; you're a Christian, the crosses are more evidence of that. A Welsh dragon, showing your pride at your Welsh heritage, which is an easy one to interpret. The rose on your left forearm, however, that is more interesting. It has no colour but against your pale skin, it becomes white, the symbol for Yorkshire in the War of the Roses. The rose traditionally symbolises beauty but yours is sharp, with clear points, perhaps suggesting that you can defend yourself well. However, it _**does**_ give me a very distinct clue to who you are." Sherlock said, his eyes sharp.

"I'll admit that not many get the Yorkshire rose part, but you're not the first to suggest my abilities at defending myself." She said, looking confident. Sherlock turned to look a John.

"John, my friend, I believe that we have just met Miss Eleri Rose." He said with a glance at her to see her reaction.

"Well done. You're grasp of the obvious is astounding! Is it my turn now?" She asked with a smirk.

Without waiting for a response, she launched into deducing who they were.

"Your friend was a soldier, sent home from war due to an injury, his distinct Military stance bears witness to this. He's a medical man, he has the same sort of presence that every doctor I've ever met has. You've revealed that his first name is 'John' and his surname is on the nametag in the collar of his coat, his name is 'John Watson'. How am I doing so far?" She asked with a smirk.

"Right, on every count Miss Rose." John smiled, something about this young woman was very friendly and familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Thank you Doctor." She smiled back before turning to gaze thoughtfully at Sherlock.

"You're from a well-off background but you try and distance yourself from that as much as possible, possibly some argument or unpleasantness with a sibling, an older brother perhaps. The cut and quality of your clothes demonstrate this but the coat is a little worn, as if you couldn't be bothered to replace it. You have keen observation skills and you rarely miss anything, the fact that you've examined my face for any lines that could give you any clue about my age makes it obvious. As you've failed to suggest an age for me, I'm guessing that you didn't find any clue and that you think it impolite to ask, yet another sign of your 'breeding'. By how quickly you deduced everything you could about me, I'd say I know who you are: you're Sherlock Holmes, the 'famous' consulting detective." She said, sneering slightly when she said the word 'famous'.

"Indeed, but anyone with half a brain cell would have been able to tell that I'm observant." Sherlock replied.

"True, but anyone with half a brain cell would be able to tell that I'm a local lass and with a name like 'Eleri' that I'm part Welsh." She retorted before whipping round to examine something over by the window, completely ignoring both men.

Sherlock was glowering at her for the implied insult, his face irritated.

"I like her." John said, trying to hide his grin. Sherlock glared at his friend.

"John, she's an arrogant and cocky know-it-all who doesn't seem to have any idea about how the world works, her little tantrum over us being asked to investigate instead of her shows that." Sherlock growled.

"Sherlock, she's you. In some ways you're exactly like her, both of you have the same sense of confidence, both of you are highly intelligent and both of you seem to have the same intolerance of idiocy. You don't like her because you know that you _**could**_ like her." John grinned at his friend.

"_**I**_ am nothing like _**her**_!" Sherlock slightly spluttered before he waved John away and proceeded to investigate the room. John, sensing that Sherlock needed some time to think, left him to investigate on his own and instead went to see if Eleri needed any help.

"Miss Rose? Can I help in any way?" He asked, causing her to turn and look at him speculatively.

"Actually, yeah. Could you grab my kit for me? It's in the black case over near the door next to my backpack. And please, call me Eleri." She asked with a smile. John returned the smile and picked up the case and carried it over to her. As soon as it was in her hands, she opened it and pulled out a pair of square glasses and put them on. She then pulled out a pair of latex gloves and pulled them onto her hands before taking up a pair of tweezers and picking up a shard of broken glass from the window and examining it.

"That's odd." She said thoughtfully, still examining it but it was enough to catch Sherlock's attention.

"Care to share?" He asked sarcastically, looking over to them. Eleri looked up.

"Only if you would." She smirked, looking him directly in the face.

"You first then, Miss Rose." Sherlock said, hurrying over to look at what she'd found.

"The Heckle marks are all wrong on this glass." She said, frowning at them. John looked blankly at her.

"Heckle marks are stress marks created by a projectile breaking glass, they're at ninety-degree angles to the projectile. Generally they're perpendicular to the projectile's exit point." Sherlock explained, looking at the marks on the glass.

"Yes, and these are perpendicular to the _**outside**_." She said. Sherlock looked at her sharply.

"The outside? The window was broken from the inside; but why? What purpose does that serve? To fool us into thinking that they broke in through this window but why?" Sherlock mused.

"Maybe to stop us from looking for any other potential entrance, what did you discover over there?" Eleri asked pointedly.

"Nothing much, just more evidence that the room has been ransacked. It seems odd though, some of the carnage seems staged, almost as if someone wanted you to believe that the room had been ransacked." Sherlock replied, looking around the room curiously.

"You're right about it being staged. Some of the broken glass is mixed in with the mess and some is on top of it. The only way that would happen is if someone broke the window from the inside, found what they were looking for and _**then**_ messed up the room, being careful to put some of the broken glass on top of the rest so we would see that immediately." Eleri said before dashing away. Sherlock and John glanced at each other for a brief moment before following her.

Eleri was dashing around the entire house examining all the windows and exterior doors. Sherlock realised almost instantly what she was doing and dashed off to examine those that Eleri hadn't gotten round to. John simply stood waiting for them to return, and he wasn't kept waiting long as they both returned.

"There was no sign of entrance at any of the windows on the upper floors or the front door." Eleri said, her voice a little breathless from the running.

"The downstairs windows were the same, but I _**did**_ discover signs of someone breaking into the back door, a few scrapings of metal and some recent scratches inside the lock. I'd say that the lock was picked using a nail file judging from the filings on the ground." Sherlock smirked, clearly pleased that he'd found the clue while Eleri hadn't. Without another word, Eleri dashed to the back door to examine the lock herself.

After a few moments scrutiny with a tiny camera showing her the inside of the lock, she straightened up and removed the camera.

"Whoever broke in _**did**_ use a nail file, but judging by the marks in the lock they used a paperclip too. Would have taken them…I'd say 13 minutes and 24 seconds exactly to trip the lock." She stated. At John's confused look she explained.

"There's some round scratches towards the back of the lock which indicates something other than the nail file. As for how long it took, by their obvious lack of skill in avoiding scratches they're an amateur at lock-picking. The first time always takes longer than the others and even then, most ordinary people can take about 13-14 minutes to pick their first lock." She explained, as she collected a few of the metal filings and placed them in an evidence bag. She ran back to the main room to be ransacked and took a camera from her case before photographing the scene.

"There's not much else to be found here, they waited too long to grant me access to this scene. The next one will have better evidence." She said while rooting around in her bag for something.

"I'll tell D.I. Owen that we'd like to go to the next crime scene." John said, heading towards the door.

"I'll be able to drive us there, as long as I know where it is." Eleri said absently as she pulled a square piece of plastic from her bag.

Eleri led them out to her car once John had gotten the address, although Owen had insisted on following them in the Police car. John's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of a sleek, steel grey Aston Martin DB9 convertible. Sherlock also looked a little surprised, although not much and you could only tell if you knew him well or were _**very**_ observant.

"Aston Martin DB9, very expensive car. May I ask how you could afford something like this?" He asked while John was still staring open-mouthed. Eleri smirked at him.

"The owner of the local dealership gave me a special deal, owed me a favour. Managed to prove that his wife was cheating on him with his now ex-best friend, saved him a fortune in the divorce." She replied, unlocking the door and hopping into the driver's seat before looking at them expectantly.

"Well get in then." She said as she plugged her phone into the stereo. John climbed into the backseat behind her while Sherlock slid into the front passenger seat.

"You might want to buckle up." She smirked at them and something about her expression made John distinctly nervous. With an almost delicate tap of her finger, the sound of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor blared out of the speakers.

"Bach? Not what I would have expected." John commented while Sherlock simply looked bored.

"I'm not your average girl, sometimes I like the classics." She smirked as she looked pensive. "But other times, I'd rather listen to something a bit more…upbeat." She continued, selecting a new play list. The music switched to the sound of guitars, the sound being almost a mix of rock and country music. As the singer, a man, started to sing the first verse, Eleri joined in with a soft and melodic voice that weaved a perfect harmony around the existing voice. Even Sherlock seemed a little stunned by her skill in her voice, although that could have been John's imagination as it was highly unlikely that his friend was stunned by anything. The speed at which Eleri drove scared John slightly, especially considering how hilly Richmond was, but he was just able to distract himself by focusing on the lyrics of the song. He recognised it as soon as the chorus started; it was the new version of '_**Footloose**_' sung by Blake Shelton, when the remake of the movie was in cinemas, the girls at the Surgery all raved about the song and were obsessed with listening to it. Eleri seemed so happy and calm whilst driving, as John would say afterwards, 'like a maniac' and singing that John almost couldn't believe that she was the same witty and sarcastic girl who seemed so like Sherlock at the crime scene.

Before too long they had arrived at the second crime scene, where the last crime had occurred only a short time before. There were still Police officers and Police cars outside when they arrived, all of whom turned to look at them as they pulled up and got out of the car, Eleri and Sherlock looking unconcerned while John was a little pale.

"Oh Gordon Bennett! Look, who's turned up!" One of the officers said, nudging another one.

"Now, now boys, don't panic. We're just here to look at the scene, not create a new one." Eleri winked as she made her way into the house. Like the previous scene, the window had been broken from the inside and the glass had been thrown back in. It had also been ransacked, but unlike the first scene, the ransacking wasn't staged.

"Same M.O. as the first scene…" Eleri mused as she removed her latex gloves.

"But what were they looking for?" Sherlock added, almost as if he was continuing her sentence. They had just examined all the evidence in the upstairs office as that was the worst affected area and were stood puzzling over what the thief was after. John sighed and leaned back, his hand making contact with the large scanner and photocopier. It was surprisingly warm, for an item that was apparently rarely used.

"Umm…Sherlock, Eleri, the photocopier's warm." He said, causing both of them to look at him. Eleri called out the door to D.I. Owen.

"Could you get Mr Coleson up here a moment?" She asked. It wasn't long before the short blonde banker was stood wringing his hands anxiously while a tall and leggy woman with fiery red hair peered round the door.

"When was the last time you photocopied something Mr Coleson?" John asked politely. The banker started dithering, stating that he wasn't sure and couldn't remember what it was.

"I know your brain is tiny, but do you think that it would be possible for you to actually _**use**_ it?" Sherlock snapped acidly, he was craving nicotine but hadn't got any of his patches with him, they were all back at the hotel. His words had no real effect other than to make the banker even more flustered. Sherlock turned to Eleri, no doubt to snap at her to have a go, only to find her staring thoughtfully at the red-head.

"Cathy? Cathy Greene?" She asked finally.

The woman looked startled.

"Yes? How do you know my name?" She asked, her voice a little nasal to Sherlock's ears.

"It's Eleri Rose, from Primary school. We were in _**Mrs**_ Coleson's class just before we left for secondary school. I'm fairly sure that we were at the same secondary too." Eleri replied, putting particular emphasis on the 'Mrs'. Both Mr Coleson and Cathy gulped.

"N-n-now Miss R-Rose, you w-won't t-tell my wife…w-will you?" The banker asked, looking terrified. Eleri put on a sad face.

"Well, I'd love to be able to keep this a secret, but if you're not a bit more helpful, then we might have to come back when you're wife is here and Mr Holmes might ask you about _**dear**_ Cathy." She sighed tragically.

"All right! I photocopied a picture of Cathy two days ago! She keeps the original, I've got the copy." Mr Coleson said suddenly, looking terrified lest Sherlock land him in trouble with his wife.

"Thank you Mr Coleson, Cathy. Might I recommend a bit more discretion in future?" Eleri smirked triumphantly before striding over to the photocopier and opening it to pull out a piece of paper with several codes written on it.

"What are those numbers?" John asked.

"I'm not sure, I never was good with numbers, they don't really like me very much." Eleri replied, handing the paper to Sherlock to examine.

"They look like security codes, the thief is probably going to use them to break in somewhere else. By the way, good work with getting that information." Sherlock said, although the last part was a bit grudgingly.

There wasn't anything else to find at the scene so Eleri drove them back to her home so they could go over everything they knew, stopping off at the hotel so Sherlock could get his patches. Eleri's stepmother, Julie, was delighted that Eleri was socialising with someone, even if it was for 'work' as was Bran, her father.

Her bedroom looked almost like something out of C.S.I or even the flat at Baker Street, with different bits of lab equipment on various surfaces and several experiments in various stages were lying around. Sherlock looked interestedly at what looked like mould growing in a dish on her windowsill.

"Is that?" John asked, wrinkling his nose lightly.

"Mould? Yes, it's _Penicillium Chrysogenum_, the same mould that Penicillin was developed from. I'm curious about the effect that direct sunlight can have on its growth." Eleri replied absently as Sherlock continued to scrutinise the experiment.

"Why?" John asked, he still couldn't get his head around the fact that she was casually growing mould in a dish on her windowsill.

"Because I was bored. Owen didn't have any cases for me and there was nothing else to do, I couldn't practise my archery inside again, Julie and Dad would have shouted at me again, I've put too many holes in my walls already." She replied, examining the photographs of the crime scenes. At the word archery, Sherlock's head snapped up to gaze at her with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Archery's a little outdated don't you think?" He said, causing her to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"People might not use bows and arrows in combat anymore, but it takes more skill to fire a bow and arrow than a gun. With a gun, you just need to pull the trigger after aiming but with a bow, you have to pull the string back far enough, you've got to hold your aim until the conditions are perfect for your shot and you've got to avoid the string hitting your arm. It's a sport." She explained before going back to her examination.

"I'm missing something but I'm not sure what, my Library needs a bit of a clear out, information about past cases are clouding this one." She scowled, talking half to herself.

"Library?" John asked, giving her a funny look. Eleri simply tapped her left temple.

"My brain isn't like most people's, I can store vast amounts of information about a wide variety of subjects; thus, it's a Library." She replied, before closing her eyes in concentration.

John stood next to Sherlock who was staring thoughtfully at the unusual young woman they had just met.

"Still think she's nothing like you?" He asked quietly with a grin. Sherlock simply glared at him, choosing to ignore that comment. Eleri was silent as she sat with her eyes closed, her hands moving as if they were running along a set of shelves and her lips moving as she murmured details to herself.

"What connection could both victims have?" Sherlock asked, half to himself but half asking the others. Eleri's eyes snapped open.

"Of course! _**That's **_what I was missing!" She exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to her laptop.

"What is it?" John asked, knowing that Sherlock was still in a mood.

"Both victims, they work for the same bank, Barclay's, that can't be a coincidence surely!" She explained, frantically typing.

"What positions do they hold?" Sherlock asked, his eyes intent.

"Mr Winters, the first victim, is the Branch manager while Mr Coleson is Head of Security for the branch. Both of them would have copies of the security codes needed to infiltrate the bank's system." She replied, glancing at him.

"So who would know that?" He wondered while John sat back and watched their exchange.

While he wasn't a genius like the pair of them, he could plainly see the attraction between them, probably more clearly than either of them could. He hid a grin as he thought about how stubborn they were both being, denying that they liked each other even though it was plainly obvious to most 'normal' people.

"What about someone in the security team?" John asked, causing the two geniuses to look at him.

"Irrelevant, they use the codes every day so they would have memorised them." Sherlock snorted.

"Unless…what if it's an old member of the security personnel, someone who was fired or retired, those codes are changed every six months, at the same time as the passwords for the computer files, and they were changed just last week. Anyone who was fired before then would have to get hold of the new ones somehow." Eleri said musingly.

"How do you know that?" John asked curiously.

"I was bored so I hacked into a few of their files, nothing important, just logs about when security codes were changed and the personnel files. The woman who deals with HR has the most unimaginative passwords ever." She replied, turning back to her laptop.

"Is there anyone who fits that description?" Sherlock asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"Give me a mo; I just need to get back into their system." She said absently as she typed furiously.

"There! Would you believe that the silly woman called one of her cats 'Mr Tiddly-Poo' and then used _**that**_ as her password? All I can say is poor cat!" Eleri laughed as she started searching through the files.

"What about her?" Sherlock suggested, pointing at the photo of a youngish red-head.

"No, she left on Maternity leave and decided to stay at home instead of returning to work. A woman with a six-month old baby is hardly the sort to consider larceny, besides, her husband makes good money. She only had the job to give her something to do during the day." Eleri replied, scanning the file.

"He might be a candidate," she said, highlighting the information of a 67 year old man. "It says here that he was forced into retirement because he was unable to keep up with some of his duties." She continued.

"What about him?" Sherlock asked, pointing at the man below the woman who'd left to have a baby.

"Possible, very possible. It says here that he was fired for, get this, stealing on the job. The moron was taking money from the safe and got caught on camera. I think he's more likely than the guy who was forced to retire, as far as I know _**he's**_ living in Cornwall now." Eleri replied with a slight smile.

_**SH**_

Later that night, Sherlock was pressed between Eleri and the wall of the air duct in which they were hiding, peering over her shoulder to look through the vent. When Eleri had suggested the night-time stakeout in the bank, he had been impressed with the idea and wholeheartedly agreed with the plan. John had been less enthusiastic but once he realised that there was no way he could talk the two of them out of it, he'd agreed to go along. It had taken some fairly fast talking on Eleri's part to get Mr Winters to agree with the idea but what convinced him was her suggestion that there would be an attempted robbery at the bank that night and they might be able to stop it if they were able to be there.

What Sherlock hadn't considered was just where they had to hide to be out of sight, the vent was very close and humid even though it would have been freezing when the air-conditioning was switched on. It was about ten to two when a noise from below caught their attention. Stealthily creeping across the floor was a short figure dressed entirely in black. The man (Sherlock could tell that the figure was male by the way they walked, women unconsciously sway their hips slightly while men don't) stopped by the security panel and started to type in the codes from a piece of paper held in his hands.

"I think that's our man." Eleri whispered almost silently in Sherlock's ear, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to quiver and unknown feelings to rush through him until he firmly pulled himself back under control. He nodded, before they crawled through the vent to the next room as their suspect entered the door. Eleri held up three long and delicate fingers, slowly counting them down until there were none before they jumped through the air vent.

The suspect whirled around in shock and more than a little bit of anger.

"Steven Thomas, 38, fired from your job here because you were caught stealing." Sherlock smirked, his words surprising the angry man.

"Yeah, what of it? I don't see how it's any of your business!" He snarled, pulling a gun out of his trouser pocket.

"Fuck!" Eleri muttered, realising that she hadn't guessed that he would be armed. Thomas pointed the gun at Sherlock and smirked as they all froze.

"It's a pity really, the one time I get to meet the famous Sherlock Holmes, I have to shoot him and his associates. Still, I might just keep the girl alive, knowing your meddling the Police will be outside so I'll need a hostage to get away. It might as well be a pretty one." He said, pulling the trigger. In those few seconds, no one really knew what happened. Eleri ran and pushed Sherlock out of the way, knocking him to the floor. She didn't have time to escape the bullet and her low cry of pain alerted Sherlock and John that she had been injured. She stared in shock at the wound in her abdomen for a few moment as she swayed before collapsing, ironically enough, into Sherlock's arms. John rushed to subdue Thomas while Sherlock pressed his scarf to the wound to try and stop the blood flow.

The case wound up pretty quickly after that, although Eleri was rushed to hospital to have the bullet removed and be checked over as she was still unconscious. Once the Richmondshire Police officers had finished asking questions and gathering the information, they allowed Sherlock and John to go. Rather than returning to their hotel, they went to the hospital in Darlington, where Eleri had been rushed. Her father and stepmother were glad to see them, understanding that they had been unable to come before because of Police questions. It was while they were waiting for the doctors to allow them in to see Eleri that they met her older sister, Nia. She was 2 years older than Eleri at 25 but you could easily tell they were sisters; they had the same build, height and eyes. But while Eleri had black hair like their father, Nia was blonde. John was particularly smitten with her but he didn't ask her out as he felt it would be inappropriate what with her sister just being hospitalised. When they were eventually allowed to see her, Sherlock and John were surprised to see that Eleri was awake although slightly drugged up on pain killers.

"So you stuck around then. I thought John might visit but not you." She smirked at Sherlock.

"Yes, well as John pointed out, unnecessarily I might add, you _**did**_ save my life." Sherlock replied with his own smirk.

They spent the next few weeks in Yorkshire, mainly to wait until Eleri was out of the hospital and they could be sure that she was fine (although Sherlock claimed that it was so he could have a holiday). John had even gone out for drinks with Nia, he hadn't even had to ask her as she'd asked him, with a bit of nudging from Eleri. By the time Sherlock and John were ready to leave, John and Nia had already become a bit of an item. Luckily she lived not too far from London anyway, she was just visiting her family at that time, so it was easier for them to see each other. Sherlock and Eleri still bickered but it was more a friendly joke than anything else. Part of their joking was over Eleri's new nickname; the newspapers had gotten wind of the case and, of course, published it, labelling her as 'the-girl-who-got-shot'. Sherlock, it seems, had done a lot of thinking in their time in Yorkshire and admitted (only to himself mind) that John was right. He _**had**_ disliked Eleri because he could see so much of himself in her. His acknowledgement that they had gotten off on the wrong foot had mollified her enough that she was able to joke with him but they weren't really friends yet. John just hoped that he could change that as he knew that his friend would do well with her at his side.


End file.
